


raspberry and rosehip

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Falling In Love, Kind of slowburn?, M/M, Rich Suh Youngho | Johnny, Romance, alternative universe, doyoung works as a gardener
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24721039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: doyoung and his brother jungwoo are in debt, on the verge of losing their home and both are desperate to find a solution to their problem. however that's how the brothers end up parting and doyoung finds his way working at Johnny's garden. soon enough with raspberry and rosehip tea, they end up glancing at each other more than they should.or in which doyoung starts working at a rich man's garden to earn money, but falls in love instead.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> just a disclaimer, i don't know what era this is supposed to represent. at first my idea was the time after ww1, but then it gave charlotte bronte vibes and i just have no idea, i hope that doesn't bother anyone. you can imagine that it's a mix of both.  
> i also haven't written in a really long time, so this chapter might feel very rusty, just a warning.  
> nonetheless, i hope you all enjoy!

The red covers or the book and floral patterned binding, the dusted yellow pages compliment the literature that the male held. He flipped through memories of the author, imagery left behind as something else was more important between the old pages. 

Doyoung’s eyes followed closely, his heart beating fast and hands shaking, almost as if his life was on the line to find something….anything between the pages. As the last pages skipped by, Doyoung felt as if all hope was lost. He had searched through every single book he had on his shelf, yet none had any envelopes in them, though he swore that’s where he hid the folded pieces of paper.

With a sigh he let the heavy book drop onto the floor, all the others were scattered around his bed and carpet. This was the only time doyoung wished that he stored his parents’ precious letters somewhere else, somewhere where the papers can be all together in one place, instead of like the books on the floor: all over the place. 

Doyoung walked over to his tiny corner table and poured himself some tea, taking a sip right away, not bothering to add sugar or honey, wanting the hot liquid to clear his head. The whole situation frustrated him, and another quarter of him seeped in worry, specifically about what happens next. The tea certainly didn’t cure nothing no more.

As Doyoung traced his eyes all over the spacious room, he mindlessly thought of possible spots he could have hidden the letters, but nothing caught suspicion, nothing even looked a possible hiding spot in the first place. It was like a puzzle, an unsolvable one. Perhaps only a detective was able to find them, but that thought already didn’t help, either with his mood or figuring things out.

Though, the letters. They were precious, worth more than Doyoung’s body parts combined. In fact, they were probably worth as much as a set of diamond jewelry or maybe even two. The letters were from war, his father had written for his mother and the letters consisted of very detailed descriptions of what life was like on the battlefield and at their hiding spots. They also consisted of loving poems and pieces of lost literature. Doyoung’s father used to rip out pages from books of abandoned homes and sent those along with his letters to his wife. Now during their time those letters are a piece of history, worth millions, something that Doyoung and his brother desperately need right now. 

Doyoung was in debt, life certainly lacked mercy. The brutality of the reality sometimes gave doyoung a small shock. He struggled, especially when there were barely work spaces and high paying jobs, he could work at. Though no one had the luck, or at least not commoners. They had little to no money, and employees didn’t have much either, so that resulted in a low salary nonetheless. Yet that would be better than having no job, Doyoung would say, since it would be a source of some type of an income. If he doesn’t find any money soon he and his brother would have to move out, probably to the streets. Doyoung did not want such a thing, especially as they were so young, there, cold on the streets it would be a matter of time he and Jungwoo would die from hypothermia or worst yet, famine, of course the possibilities of falling ill were big too, and neither of them could afford medicine, not even now. They have been eating bits of bread and drinking tea to ease their hunger.

Fast, heavy steps boomed in the hallway and soon arrived at doyoung’s room’s door. He didn't need to call the person in, he knew it was Jungwoo and the younger was well aware of their rules, three light knocks on the dark door frame and you’re more than welcomed to step in. 

The knocks were desperate, and the door opened with a fear-eyed male. Jungwoo let all the papers and folders fall onto the floor. With a frown upon his lips, he stated: “I couldn't find the letters, only some school papers and bills.” he continued to chew at his lips and played with the yarn of his sweater which was slightly sticking out

Doyoung knew the younger was most bothered by the events and he couldn't blame him, at all. Jungwoo was so young, so full of life and purity and now every dream he had for his future would be taken away faster than the life he had already experienced. At nights he crawls into Doyoung’s bed, at first he thought it was because the younger’s room is cold, but now he knew better. Jungwoo cherished the warmth in life, the present, as if it were a gift. Doyoung doesn't complain, he never did, he enjoyed those nights as much as Jungwoo did, maybe even a little more since to the other, the nights were filled with sour memories.

“Jungwoo, I’ll figure something out.” Doyoung looked into the younger’s eyes, and he knew Jungwoo was on the verge of tears. Maybe he lied to the both of them, and maybe he believed himself more than he should have, but Doyoung knew he could try a little harder. His heart consisted of fragments of hope, and Doyoung made sure to make the use of them. That on the other hand didn’t impress Jungwoo.

“Three days, Doyoung, what could you possibly do in three days?” he asked, voice almost breaking and his lips quivered, eyes becoming glassy.

“A person can do a lot in three days.”

“Surely you can’t earn a grand.” Jungwoo insisted, the whole thing sounding silly to him.

Doyoung knew how low Jungwoo’s expectations had become, it was simple psychology, one will run out of optimism after a hard work of using it all. Or maybe all the positivity had transferred over to doyoung, who now would turn the world upside down to get even a few coins for their survival.

“One can try, it’s better than doing nothing, especially during a time like this.” he answered, yet that didn't cheer up Jungwoo even the slightest bit, but Doyoung didn't think it would have.

“People have no money. Please don’t waste your time either.”

“I'm sure the rich still walk around, Jungwoo. And besides, any money we get will be for our own benefit, even if we end up losing the house.” that seemed to turn gears in Jungwoo’s head as he fell silent, no more objections. 

“I can look through the files, maybe something is worthy in a pawn?” Doyoung debated, Jungwoo only gave a nod and left the room. 

Doyoung set the teacup aside and sat on the floor, watching the pile on his floor. He knew he won’t get much out of anything, he could even sell books to a library, but they simply just weren’t worth much, maybe he could get nickel, or if things go well, a quarter. 

Sorting through the pile he even found some notebook pages with recipes written on them, those he instantly put in his back pocket, having either sentimental value or it could come handy some day. He crunched up the bills, not even thinking twice about their worth. Doyoung wasn’t completely sure why they kept them, as they were only useful once, though now he at least had some burning material. 

With school diplomas and other papers he made a different pile. The diploma itself was good for getting a job at a school or as a private tutor at noble men’s mansions. He once even debated it, though as times only got rougher, education became less necessary. Children weren’t kept alive if they happened to be born, as families just didn't have enough money to keep themselves up. So there was no point in hiring a tutor, it would simply be a waste of money. Food and firewood during winters were essentials, everything else only kept people entertained. Either it was a financial struggle or falling ill during colder months.

After all the sorting, Doyoung decided to put all his books back in their place. Sooner enough the floor of his room became mess lessy, and rather clean looking, despite the scrunched up papers. 

As dusk arrived, the birds chirped away their misery and greeted the purples and pinks in the night sky. Green trees among apple blossoms and lilacs added to the painting-like view from Doyoung’s window. A veil of fog accompanied the flowers in the garden and the air cooled down. Doyoung silently watched, admiring the sight as there will be a day he can not do that anymore. He will miss his garden dearly, every autumn he got apples all sorts and berries to make into jam. Jungwoo also loved cutting the rose bushes and caring for the flowers, that’s all he did during summers, it was odd to think that this summer will be an exception, and all other future summers. 

The tea in the pot was already cold when Doyoung finished tidying up his space and the room had become as dark as the house’s hallways as dusk came. He wondered if Jungwoo had fallen asleep, he hoped not. It couldn’t have been that late. 

Doyoung walked down the hallway to his brother’s door and opened it slightly. Jungwoo sat at his desk, writing something on a piece of paper, probably a letter. The candle on the table lit up the corner of the room, while everything else was deep in darkness, only hues of yellow were casted on furniture as the candle gave them life.

With a sigh of relief, Doyoung closed the door gently and headed to the kitchen. He assumed they still had potatoes, one night of fine dining wouldn’t hurt anyone, and Doyoung was certain that jungwoo would love to eat something else after weeks of bread and tea. 

Looking into one of the cupboards he found a small sack full of potatoes. He took out two, one for him and the other for jungwoo. 

As he cut a slit into one of the potatoes after washing it, Jungwoo had come downstairs and peeked from the doorway.

“Doyoung, you still have some stamps, right?” he asked, curious eyes following Doyoung’s hands, watching closely as the potatoes were being seasoned.

Doyoung himself didn't look away from the food and answered without thinking long about it. 

“Yes, I believe I have two left, why?”

“I wrote a letter for Taeyong, I'm sure he wouldn't mind us living with him until we get back on our feet. So for three days we can just search for money so that he wouldn’t have to waste his own on us.”

Doyoung had to admit, the idea wasn’t bad, though Taeyong lived quite far, he wasn’t sure how they would even get to their friend’s hometown. Simply said, they just wouldn’t have enough money for transportation. But that wasn’t something he wanted to tell Jugwoo.

“Alright, you can go get them from my desk drawer, the narrow one.”

“Thank you, Doyoung!”

As Jungwoo rushed back upstairs, Doyoung put the potatoes on a pan and set them in the oven. The heat from the oven warmed up the kitchen, making the atmosphere a lot more approachable. To him it felt like autumn, dark, cozy and warm, but it was late spring instead.

Deciding that the potatoes would go well with a salad, Doyoung put on his sweater and headed out to his garden, but not before telling Jungwoo to prepare some tea. 

Doyoung was very proud of his garden, he had many varieties of plants as well as bushes of flowers there, throughout his 24 years of living, he had collected seeds from his parents’ friends’ gardens as well as from exotic fruits he once had, and planted them. 

Thanks to his little habit his garden could be considered rich, except that he gets no grapes or lemons, despite having the vines and trees. Although apples, cherries and plums come without asking, as well as red and black currants. Raspberries come and go, but when they happen to give, Doyoung doesn't even hesitate to make jam, and lots of it. His small greenhouse consists mostly of tomatoes and cucumbers, as well as green onions and strawberries. He wishes that he had something more to grow, but summers aren’t long, neither does he have the space for all of that.

He went into the greenhouse and collected some green onion, tomatoes were too young to give crop and so were the cucumbers, those he had no choice but to leave alone. 

Doyoung watered the plants before exiting, making a mental note to pack some younger seedlings with him, if he and Jungwoo happen to move in with Taeyong.

The slight scent of peppermint filled the house and Doyoung knew that Jungwoo had freshly brewed tea. “I couldn’t find your cup, so do you want the green one for now?” Jungwoo asked while he poured some of the hot liquid into his pale yellow mug. 

Doyoung set the onion onto the table and started cutting them up, nodding at Jungwoo.

“It’s probably in my room, sorry.” he answered with a laugh in his tone as he remembered he had been drinking tea in his room earlier, and that it was most likely cold by now. 

“It’s almost like you live there, Doie.” Jungwoo said, a smile evident on his face. It was a nice change of scenery, especially after an intense daytime. Doyoung didn't think he would see Jungwoo smile so lightly after all of the panic he went through, but Doyoung was happy that God had other plans. In a way he hoped that it was a sign that things will go for the better, that their lives won't end as soon as autumn comes and that they would have a chance to work at their gardens during summer. Late spring wasn't as forgiving. 

Doyoung got out a small bowl and let the greenness fall into it, while searching for sour cream. Jungwoo on the other hand got out plates and cutlery, setting them onto the table as neatly as possible. The kitchen was as alive as ever, in the candlelight the two bodies moved from one wall to the other and their conversations bloomed, the calm after the storm. 

They ate their baked potatoes with sour cream and onion, from time to time sipping their peppermint tea. 

Jungwoo couldn't stop talking about the possibility of getting to live with Taeyong and Doyoung listened with interest, he knew that to his brother it was easier to think of a new beginning than being kicked out.

That night Jungwoo crawled onto Doyoung’s bed and didn’t reminisce about the old, neither did he cry about the future, he slept soundly and dreamed of the better. 

The letter sat on Doyoung’s desk, waiting to be mailed.


	2. Chapter 2

Doyoung woke up at dawn, the sun stared at him blindly through the thin curtains, it sat at the horizon while the outdoors glowed in morning light. Birds sang as if it was spring, to Doyoung their voices were like tiny bells, giggling their way into one’s heart.

The light illuminated in the bedroom, Jungwoo’s body raising and falling peacefully while he breathed through his deep slumber. Doyoung silently admired his little brother, while the evening had been a breath of fresh air, the morning was as suffocating as running on ahot summer day. Doyoung’s guts slowly drowned in worry, it felt like the end of the world. The highest note which lays at the end of the piano, you can’t hear it well, but it sure tingles in your mind, hurting as much as reality was capable of.

Doyoung hated to think of his financial struggle, he hated every second of sitting around and just witnessing his own loss, as well as Jungwoo’s. Sometimes he thinks that it would have been better if his 14 year old brother ended up in an orphanage, at least there they wouldn’t have to worry about starving to death.

Taeyong truly seemed like the last person who was willing to help, Doyoung was glad that Jungwoo came up with the idea. Doyoung has known the other longer than he remembers existing, the other constantly played with him when they were little, he even let Doyoung play with the toys his father had brought from abroad, Taeyong was from a wealthier family. He was also the first rich person Doyoung took seriously, while others seemed bratty and spoiled, Taeyong tried his best to be there for everyone, even if it meant upsetting his parents and not living up to their standards. 

Doyoung remembers well how the mature voices shouted when he and Yong had saved a baby bird, sneaking out at night to their neighbours garden’s peony bushes and feeding the bird. The neighbour had spotted them and instantly contacted Taeyong’s father, who didn’t take it with a light heart, even what the child was doing happened to be something good. No one can be put up against a militarist, especially their own son.

As time went by and they both grew up, Taeyong didn’t change one bit, and Doyoung was sure that Taeyong had remained the same, even after not seeing each other for around three years. He lives an hour away by train, so much Doyoung knows. But even so it’s easier and cheaper to send letters, Doyoung couldn’t even imagine how much a ticket would be, especially to that far. He hopes for the best, even if he can’t get enough money, he can just send Jungwoo, and everything would still be alright. Doyoung will be fine.

He got out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake Jungwoo up. Yet the rustling bedsheets sounded louder than the birds, the mattress dipped, making the small body drown into the blankets and bed. His heartbeat raced, truly afraid of interrupting the other’s slumber. Though Jungwoo didn’t even flinch. As Doyoung successfully sat on the edge of the bed frame, he yawned, the clock showing 5:28. Too early for someone who has nowhere to go.

As Doyoung dressed himself, he noticed the letter inside an envelope on his desk, accompanied with an empty mug. He assumed Jungwoo worked on it in his room after he got permission to use the postmarks. Though, he never drinks tea outside of the kitchen, so he wondered why the mug was there. Was Jungwoo that terrified that he had to drink tea to calm down? Doyoung tried to not put much thought into it as he took the envelope, sealed it and headed out of his room.

Sticking the letter into his coat’s front pocket, Doyoung kicked on his shoes and went outside, initially wanting to go for an early morning walk and enjoy the scenery. Of course doing so also gives him an excuse to drop off the letter, letting it fall into the nearest mailbox.

The air was humid, hot for late spring, especially considering the climate. It surely was going to thunder, most likely to rain first. Yet all the trees lushed, blossoms as full as ever and the green on the leaves saturated. Grass seemed taller than yesterday, some wildflowers cried from dew. Without the fog nothing would have been complete, if anything the moon and the polaris would have looked out of place.

They say you can see Venus in the daylight, Doyoung might have seen the morning star, shining as bright as the lights at night. Cotton flavoured clouds hovered above, being torn apart by the air between them. 

At times Doyoung couldn’t believe this was life, so beautiful and mythical. There was no way that the life he lived was real. Surreal, even the dewy grass and the simple blue in the sky. But there he was, standing in the midst of everything, being part of the beauty of humid mornings of late spring, while the trees dripped from mercy and the skies birthed miracles. 

Alone he was not, behind him footsteps brought him back to reality. Doyoung with surprised eyes looked back and saw a man who walked as if he owned earth- straight back, confident steps and his eyes only looked ahead, not even glancing at Doyoung. By the clothes he wore and the way how neat the man’s hair was, Doyoung could only assume that the latter was rich, or at least in one of the wealthy spectrums, yet that wasn’t even what caught his eye, Doyoung admired the mere selfishness, an act of being the only god above others. 

As the man passed him, he became certain, maybe it was because Doyoung didn’t look as nice, the coat hanging off his shoulders what his father used to wear, as noble as the man was, didn’t spear a hello, despite them being the only living souls walking around town so early in the morning. The shorter male kept walking, but Doyoung stood on the side of the road, wet grass touching his ankles. After a while of blankly existing, he as well started walking to his destination to get the letter mailed. 

The envelope securely in the yellow box near the post office and the sun yawning as it’s waking up, Doyoung sighed with relief when he entered the house. Jungwoo slept soundly, so Doyoung took that time to bring the mug to the kitchen and wash it, along with last night’s dishes. 

He summarged through the kitchen cupboards, looking closely for anything that would be edible (that also wasn’t bread). Perhaps Doyoung suddenly gained immense luck, because a paper bag stood out proudly from behind cans of beans.

Doyoung knew well what it was, as it was a gift bag full of oat flakes. He had received it from one of his neighbours, who worked in a mill. He silently thanked god, despite not believing. Doyoung instantly got to work- he put a pot on the oven and filled it with water, setting it to boil, and instead of waiting we went to the pantry to get some strawberry jam, he was certain that Jungwoo would love the little surprise meal. 

As he poured in the oats, there was thrill filled excitement in his chest, something so odd that Doyoung couldn’t even tell if it happened to be because of eating porridge after so many years, despite having the paper bag in his cupboards for only two months. Though he’s more than grateful that he never used them, since now those little flakes are needed more than ever.

The finished product made Doyoung smile widely, his pearly whites peeking through his lips. The porridge now set in two bowls, strawberry jam sat on top of the warm meal, ready to be mixed into a delicious breakfast.

Doyoung went upstairs to call Jungwoo to eat, but seeing how peacefully the boy slept, he almost didn’t want to wake the other up, but as he began to pat Jungwoo’s hair gently and whispered “wake up”, the sleepy brown eyes and the pout on his lips was worth it, as his brother will meet with a pleasant surprise anyway. 

“Waking me up so early should be a crime, is anything worth more than my dreams?” Jungwoo complained the whole time when Doyoung helped with buttoning up the younger’s shirt.

“You should start sleeping longer, you’re starting to get wrinkles.” they walked downstairs, and Doyoung wasn’t sure if he should feel offended by that or take it as a joke.

“Trust me, you’ll enjoy what you’re going to see.” He said instead, but Jungwoo being so tired to comprehend reality, thought of something else.

“Saturn’s rings?” 

Doyoung looked down to meet his brother’s eyes, then pulled him over to the table, Jungwoo’s eyes wide, uncertainty filling them.

“No? Come on, i’ll even pour some milk for us.” Doyoung turned around for a moment and got some cups as well as a bottle of milk.

Jungwoo’s mouth fell open, the aroma of the meal putting him under its spell. 

“How did you get that?!” he asked, almost tripping over the chair’s feet as he tried to sit down on it. 

“Had it in the cupboard, we also have a few cans of beans.” Doyoung smiled, setting one of the cups filled with milk down onto the table, next to Jungwoo’s bowl. The other ended up at his bowl, Doyoung took his time to sit down as well, watching closely as the younger was almost afraid to eat, the sight too good to be true. Maybe he was starving so bad that he started to see mirages?

“Eat before it gets cold.”

So Jungwoo did, with shaky hands he took a hold of the silver spoon and dipped it into the boiled oats. Carefully he pulled the silverware out, some strawberry jam decorating the spoonful. Doyoung didn’t hesitate, he ate it without thinking, and surely it became something he’ll never forget, or at least not after months of starvation.

Jungwoo made sure to eat it slowly, savouring every bite, every fragment of flavour. Doyoung’s lips curved upwards, happy that Jungwoo seemed content with his breakfast.

“I mailed the letter this morning, hopefully it reached Taeyong in a day.” Doyoung spoke, a hint of anxiety in his voice, obviously worried about their situation.

“That’s okay, it’s best if it reaches him at all.” Jungwoo didn’t seem bothered at all, he just kept smiling and stuffed his face with porridge and strawberry jam.

Doyoung now had to figure out how to get money. He could sell loaves of bread, his whole shelf full of books, wipe floors at a manufactory. Anything that was enough for a single ticket, that’s for sure. Though now as thought deeper into this, he probably needed to go to a pawn shop and see how much he could get from his mother’s jewelry and his father’s military badges. Doyoung will forever hate himself for renting a house, he should have bought it fair and square.

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked what i wrote, kudos and comments are more than appreciated, thank you!


End file.
